Willagee indicates that there are certainly some 'bigguns' down in the cellar, and he suspects some other creature as well as the spiders, though he hasn't the nerve to go looking. He also says the Count is expected any minute, so if you'd like to meet him then it would be best to prepare now...
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
"Thank you Willagee. I think it's best then that me and my companions here along with a couple others handle the spiders after we have a discussion with this Barovian count," Hatch said, hoping everyone would help to make it a civil discussion. He'd rather not get attacked again by mistake like their initial attempted questioning of Mr. Dory went down.
So Hatch spent a few moments attempting to fan the burnt "was just struck by a lightning spell" smell off him and gargling water to erase the scent of alcohol and vomit from his breath. He wasn't quite as presentable as he had been when he had first entered the bar, but it was the best he could do with the time and resources allotted. He just had to hope his manners and bearing would see him the rest of the way through.
And then he began the short wait until he could meet this Count and politely ask him what, if anything, he may know or could reveal about this curse they were all under.
The heroes have just enough time to make themselves presentable before the door to the main bedroom upstairs opens, and the guest-of-honour appears. The Count is a pale man apparently in his late twenties or early thirties. His jet-black hair is kept swept back from his face, resulting in a prominent brow and widow’s peak, and his dark, liquid eyes have an intensity that can make even the strongest man nervous. He is dressed in exquisite finery, albeit in a somewhat outdated style, though his only adornments are a tasteful ruby-and-gold necklace and a gold signet ring. His physique is lean but muscular, and his height an inch or two more than six feet.
The Count saunters down the stairway with not a single glance at the assembled masses, although he no doubt is aware that all eyes are on him. Several of the watchers (particularly those of the female persuasion) appear rather enamored of the regal figure, and hopeful of catching his eye. Crossing the floor, the Count ascends the dais and sits himself at the table, where Willagee himself has appeared to hold his chair and pour his wine. The intense eyes for the first time now survey the room, taking in the scene with a countenance at the same time both condescending and curious.
Hatch stepped in to intervene hopefully before the barbarian could potentially put them all in a bad way with the Count before they could even ask him the first question, sparing a glance at Lok that screamed 'Why would you sarcastically ask who you're talking to when the man hasn't said a word yet?' which was pretty good for just one glance, but otherwise kept his thought silent, before turning his attention to the Count.
"Greetings sir, I know this may seem a bit rude or like it's coming out of nowhere, but may we speak with you? You see, everyone here in this tav-er-this inn is in a bit of trouble. For, although you may not be aware of it, everyone of us has recently been placed under a curse that prevents us from leaving this building. This has been true for several hours now, but recently a breakthrough in, well, breaking the curse, we accomplished, in a way, the first of five steps. As soon as it was done our cursed tavern turned into this equally cursed inn, and beyond the physical layout of the building the only other changes were the memories of our barkeep, the barmaid, a problem with spiders in the cellar, and the fact that you are now here. Being that you did not exist in this building prior to breaking the first step of the curse, we are all most eager if you could maybe help provide some light on our current situation, please," Hatch explained, rushing to get all the known details out in the open before anyone could start throwing accusations or insults or let rage or panic set in.
"I know this is a lot out of nowhere, and I'd have preferred to ease you into the facts of this matter, but my compatriots are a bit on edge and liable to make a bad impression due to the uneasiness of the situation. But on my honor it is true, you can ask any one of us. So, would you please allow us the privilege of asking you some things to maybe better find our way free of this curse?"
"Yes, I believe we are all a little tense," Lia begins, with a pointed look at Lok, "but we hope you can make things more clear for us, your lordship." She awkwardly starts a small curtsy but thinks better of it, leaving the action to be a tiny bob up and down.
Lia smiles back at Hatch. "There's only so much that can be said with a weapon, and I hate to see good people get hurt for no reason." she says, wincing slightly at the memory of watching Hatch and Delmon get electrocuted, and more so at the thought of the fireplace.
The Count looks curiously at Lok's approach, and smirks with amusement at his greeting. As Hatch steps in an reprimands him, the Count's gaze lingers on the barbarian's face, his head tilting slightly as he scrutinizes him as deeply as though examining the front of his backbone. Mollified by the rebuttal, Lok withdraws and the Count turns his attention to Hatch to listen to his petition.
The Count listens with an almost unreadable expression, but Lia watching on gets the impression from his eyes that the Count is absorbing much more information than contained in Hatch's words alone. After Hatch's conclusion and Lia's addition, the Count takes a sip of wine and sits silent for a few moments before speaking. His voice is ambrosia, rich in tone and regal in expression, metered like a king's promenade, with a pronounced 'v' sound in the place of each 'w', and none can fail to detect the implicit unworldly charm.
So, what you are saying is that we are all irrevocably imprisoned within these walls, trapped for all eternity with no means of escape. Others may enter but none may leave. Curious. This would not be the first time I have experienced such a curse.
He stops for a moment, taking another sip of wine but not taking his eyes from Hatch and Lia, before continuing.
You know nothing of eternal captivity, and thus you seek my counsel. But tell me, what if I do not wish to end this curse? What if I find this to be to my advantage?
"I assure you, if you think this to your advantage then you are grossly overestimating the pleasure of our company. A group of drunks grown sick of each other and hungry, sooner or later resorting to cannibalism, and all the unpleasant sights, sounds, and smells until the bitter end. No, I think even if you were as immortal as our poor Mr. Dory was to everything but fire having to sit and be witness to our devolving antics would prove...tiresome. I don't know whether you are good or evil, real or some aspect of this spell upon us, but I doubt whatever or whoever you are imprisonment with a rowdy bunch of ever increasingly panicked and on edge tavern goers is your idea of a good old time, unless you're a masochist. And somehow I just don't get the sense you are the sort who enjoys being bothered."
Hatch shrugs. "I can't appeal to your better nature, as I don't know you and therefore can't know what's in your nature. I can only make an appeal to your rationality - the hope that you'll find the squalor we'll inevitably turn this place into over the course of days or weeks without release, to be less pleasant than the alternative of providing us with advice or helping us escape," he finished, hoping he made a good case.
(And now the most dangerous thing...rolling the dice!)
Persuasion: 10
(Edit - Damn, 10! With my modifier and profiency that means I rolled a 4! Thank God Persuasion is my strongest stat... Anyone else want to roll for Persuasion? Lia?)
OOC: with his -1 modifier to persuasion, he decides to help Hatch get advantage on his check by demonstrating a little bit about how unpleasant we could be.
"Hey Hatch and Lia, who's your new friend?"
Throm lets out an impressive belch and scratches himself inappropriately. Then in a continuous motion, brings his hand up, gives it a sniff and then extends it in handshake.
The corners of Lia's face lift slightly in disgust at the Count's suggestion, before being wiped away by a smirk at Throm. "Yes, as my friend said, that is a very dangerous notion. I assure you, the situation might not be to your advantage for very long, Count." she adds for Throm's benefit.
The Count raises his voice ever so slightly as he retorts: I think you underestimate the depravity I can endure! Then leaning forward to Hatch he says in a softer voice: But I see there is some truth to your words. Bearing witness to your mortal degeneracies would be a mere passing amusement. Perhaps you could serve me better without such carnal impediments. You would like to serve me, wouldn't you?
Hatch feels his gaze locked in the Count's stare, and feels himself begin to be engulfed by his will.
Hatch make a Wisdom saving throw. I would expect a level 6 tiefling paladin to have a modifier of about +4, right?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
The Count raises his voice ever so slightly as he retorts: I think you underestimate the depravity I can endure! Then leaning forward to Hatch he says in a softer voice: But I see there is some truth to your words. Bearing witness to your mortal degeneracies would be a mere passing amusement. Perhaps you could serve me better without such carnal impediments. You would like to serve me, wouldn't you?
Hatch feels his gaze locked in the Count's stare, and feels himself begin to be engulfed by his will.
Hatch make a Wisdom saving throw. I would expect a level 6 tiefling paladin to have a modifier of about +4, right?
Lia narrows her eyes, and shudders slightly at the Count's choice of words. "I believe we could be mutually beneficial to one another, sir. If there is something you want in return for aiding our plight I'm sure we could find a way to give it to you." The intensity of their eye contact concerns Lia, and she places her hand lightly on Hatch's shoulder.
Hatch manages to defy the urge to capitulate to the allure of the Count's gaze, although the regal figure continues to scrutinise the tiefling with curiosity. Then turning his eyes to Lia he croons in an enchantingly seductive tone that fills Lia with a tingle of desire: There are few things I want, and fewer still I am willing to exchange for. Would you not surrender them to me willingly?
Now it's Lia's turn to make a Wisdom saving throw.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
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Willagee indicates that there are certainly some 'bigguns' down in the cellar, and he suspects some other creature as well as the spiders, though he hasn't the nerve to go looking. He also says the Count is expected any minute, so if you'd like to meet him then it would be best to prepare now...
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
"Thank you Willagee. I think it's best then that me and my companions here along with a couple others handle the spiders after we have a discussion with this Barovian count," Hatch said, hoping everyone would help to make it a civil discussion. He'd rather not get attacked again by mistake like their initial attempted questioning of Mr. Dory went down.
So Hatch spent a few moments attempting to fan the burnt "was just struck by a lightning spell" smell off him and gargling water to erase the scent of alcohol and vomit from his breath. He wasn't quite as presentable as he had been when he had first entered the bar, but it was the best he could do with the time and resources allotted. He just had to hope his manners and bearing would see him the rest of the way through.
And then he began the short wait until he could meet this Count and politely ask him what, if anything, he may know or could reveal about this curse they were all under.
"Still no leaving, huh." Lok stared at the blackness outside the door, before closing the front door firmly.
Walking back to the bar, he sat down and continued drinking.
The barbarian is going to flag down Willagee for a question
"Would you happen to know an old witch named Mad Maggie?" Lok asks Willagee.
Lia hands the key back to Kardinya with a smile. "No worries." She sits down on the barstool in front of her.
"I believe we've all earned a rest, however brief," Lia begins, with a heavy sigh, "while we await the Count."
The heroes have just enough time to make themselves presentable before the door to the main bedroom upstairs opens, and the guest-of-honour appears. The Count is a pale man apparently in his late twenties or early thirties. His jet-black hair is kept swept back from his face, resulting in a prominent brow and widow’s peak, and his dark, liquid eyes have an intensity that can make even the strongest man nervous. He is dressed in exquisite finery, albeit in a somewhat outdated style, though his only adornments are a tasteful ruby-and-gold necklace and a gold signet ring. His physique is lean but muscular, and his height an inch or two more than six feet.
The Count saunters down the stairway with not a single glance at the assembled masses, although he no doubt is aware that all eyes are on him. Several of the watchers (particularly those of the female persuasion) appear rather enamored of the regal figure, and hopeful of catching his eye. Crossing the floor, the Count ascends the dais and sits himself at the table, where Willagee himself has appeared to hold his chair and pour his wine. The intense eyes for the first time now survey the room, taking in the scene with a countenance at the same time both condescending and curious.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
The look of condescension on the Counts face bothered the barbarian
"Quite the entrance." Lok said and began to walk over to this Count.
"And who might I have the absolute 'pleasure' to be speaking to" he questioned, sarcastically, a fake grin plastered to his face(Hatch and Lia have effectively stopped me from doing this)
Hatch stepped in to intervene hopefully before the barbarian could potentially put them all in a bad way with the Count before they could even ask him the first question, sparing a glance at Lok that screamed 'Why would you sarcastically ask who you're talking to when the man hasn't said a word yet?' which was pretty good for just one glance, but otherwise kept his thought silent, before turning his attention to the Count.
"Greetings sir, I know this may seem a bit rude or like it's coming out of nowhere, but may we speak with you? You see, everyone here in this tav-er-this inn is in a bit of trouble. For, although you may not be aware of it, everyone of us has recently been placed under a curse that prevents us from leaving this building. This has been true for several hours now, but recently a breakthrough in, well, breaking the curse, we accomplished, in a way, the first of five steps. As soon as it was done our cursed tavern turned into this equally cursed inn, and beyond the physical layout of the building the only other changes were the memories of our barkeep, the barmaid, a problem with spiders in the cellar, and the fact that you are now here. Being that you did not exist in this building prior to breaking the first step of the curse, we are all most eager if you could maybe help provide some light on our current situation, please," Hatch explained, rushing to get all the known details out in the open before anyone could start throwing accusations or insults or let rage or panic set in.
"I know this is a lot out of nowhere, and I'd have preferred to ease you into the facts of this matter, but my compatriots are a bit on edge and liable to make a bad impression due to the uneasiness of the situation. But on my honor it is true, you can ask any one of us. So, would you please allow us the privilege of asking you some things to maybe better find our way free of this curse?"
"Yes, I believe we are all a little tense," Lia begins, with a pointed look at Lok, "but we hope you can make things more clear for us, your lordship." She awkwardly starts a small curtsy but thinks better of it, leaving the action to be a tiny bob up and down.
before Lok could approach the count, he glanced over to Hatch and Lia and noticed their expression.
"Sorry, guess I had too much to drink."
Lok gets the hint and sulks back to his seat to wait quietly for the more social of his group to handle the count.
Hatch looked over at Lia with a look of relief. It was nice to have someone else on the side of calm diplomacy to count on.
Lia smiles back at Hatch. "There's only so much that can be said with a weapon, and I hate to see good people get hurt for no reason." she says, wincing slightly at the memory of watching Hatch and Delmon get electrocuted, and more so at the thought of the fireplace.
Oh, I'm afraid it's too late for that. The cat is out of the bag. :D Besides, I like it.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
The Count looks curiously at Lok's approach, and smirks with amusement at his greeting. As Hatch steps in an reprimands him, the Count's gaze lingers on the barbarian's face, his head tilting slightly as he scrutinizes him as deeply as though examining the front of his backbone. Mollified by the rebuttal, Lok withdraws and the Count turns his attention to Hatch to listen to his petition.
The Count listens with an almost unreadable expression, but Lia watching on gets the impression from his eyes that the Count is absorbing much more information than contained in Hatch's words alone. After Hatch's conclusion and Lia's addition, the Count takes a sip of wine and sits silent for a few moments before speaking. His voice is ambrosia, rich in tone and regal in expression, metered like a king's promenade, with a pronounced 'v' sound in the place of each 'w', and none can fail to detect the implicit unworldly charm.
So, what you are saying is that we are all irrevocably imprisoned within these walls, trapped for all eternity with no means of escape. Others may enter but none may leave. Curious. This would not be the first time I have experienced such a curse.
He stops for a moment, taking another sip of wine but not taking his eyes from Hatch and Lia, before continuing.
You know nothing of eternal captivity, and thus you seek my counsel. But tell me, what if I do not wish to end this curse? What if I find this to be to my advantage?
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
"I assure you, if you think this to your advantage then you are grossly overestimating the pleasure of our company. A group of drunks grown sick of each other and hungry, sooner or later resorting to cannibalism, and all the unpleasant sights, sounds, and smells until the bitter end. No, I think even if you were as immortal as our poor Mr. Dory was to everything but fire having to sit and be witness to our devolving antics would prove...tiresome. I don't know whether you are good or evil, real or some aspect of this spell upon us, but I doubt whatever or whoever you are imprisonment with a rowdy bunch of ever increasingly panicked and on edge tavern goers is your idea of a good old time, unless you're a masochist. And somehow I just don't get the sense you are the sort who enjoys being bothered."
Hatch shrugs. "I can't appeal to your better nature, as I don't know you and therefore can't know what's in your nature. I can only make an appeal to your rationality - the hope that you'll find the squalor we'll inevitably turn this place into over the course of days or weeks without release, to be less pleasant than the alternative of providing us with advice or helping us escape," he finished, hoping he made a good case.
(And now the most dangerous thing...rolling the dice!)
Persuasion: 10
(Edit - Damn, 10! With my modifier and profiency that means I rolled a 4! Thank God Persuasion is my strongest stat... Anyone else want to roll for Persuasion? Lia?)
Throm approaches the discussion.
OOC: with his -1 modifier to persuasion, he decides to help Hatch get advantage on his check by demonstrating a little bit about how unpleasant we could be.
"Hey Hatch and Lia, who's your new friend?"
Throm lets out an impressive belch and scratches himself inappropriately. Then in a continuous motion, brings his hand up, gives it a sniff and then extends it in handshake.
"Put 'er there Mr. Fancypants"
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
”I am not young enough to know everything.” - Oscar Wilde
The corners of Lia's face lift slightly in disgust at the Count's suggestion, before being wiped away by a smirk at Throm. "Yes, as my friend said, that is a very dangerous notion. I assure you, the situation might not be to your advantage for very long, Count." she adds for Throm's benefit.
Persuasion: 20
(Well! That was a surprise!)
The Count raises his voice ever so slightly as he retorts: I think you underestimate the depravity I can endure! Then leaning forward to Hatch he says in a softer voice: But I see there is some truth to your words. Bearing witness to your mortal degeneracies would be a mere passing amusement. Perhaps you could serve me better without such carnal impediments. You would like to serve me, wouldn't you?
Hatch feels his gaze locked in the Count's stare, and feels himself begin to be engulfed by his will.
Hatch make a Wisdom saving throw. I would expect a level 6 tiefling paladin to have a modifier of about +4, right?
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
(It's a +3 actually)
23
(Oh thank God a decent roll)
Lia narrows her eyes, and shudders slightly at the Count's choice of words. "I believe we could be mutually beneficial to one another, sir. If there is something you want in return for aiding our plight I'm sure we could find a way to give it to you." The intensity of their eye contact concerns Lia, and she places her hand lightly on Hatch's shoulder.
Hatch manages to defy the urge to capitulate to the allure of the Count's gaze, although the regal figure continues to scrutinise the tiefling with curiosity. Then turning his eyes to Lia he croons in an enchantingly seductive tone that fills Lia with a tingle of desire: There are few things I want, and fewer still I am willing to exchange for. Would you not surrender them to me willingly?
Now it's Lia's turn to make a Wisdom saving throw.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?